


Folded Paper Hearts

by Juliko



Category: Harvest Moon, Harvest Moon: Back To Nature, Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Harvest Moon - Freeform, Heartwarming, Love, One Shot, Paper Hearts, Romance, Short One Shot, Starry Night Festival, farming, jack/claire - Freeform, pete/claire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliko/pseuds/Juliko
Summary: Ramona is a girl who bears a dark burden that she isn't sure she can both keep secret or let out, lest she be called dirty or bad, as she already thinks what's happening to her is her fault. When a kind teacher unwittingly gives her an outlet for her pain--folding paper hearts--Ramona finds a brand new lease on life. But it will be a while before she's ready to not only open her heart to others, but to show them the scars and the pain she puts into those paper hearts.





	Folded Paper Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. This is Julia here, writing another Harvest Moon fic, this time for Friends of Mineral Town! This one-shot is actually a sneak peek for a future, multichapter HM:FOMT fic I plan on writing once I finish my Pokemon fan fic. A few things: Here, Pete/Jack will be named Sterling, and Claire will be called Ramona. Those are the names I picked for them in my copies of the games, and thought, “Why not?” and put them here, too. I hope that’s okay with you! Anyway, here’s my stupid little one-shot that I just wrote for fun and because I felt like it. Enjoy!
> 
> (And no, the title does NOT come from the song called Paper Hearts by Tori Kelly. I don’t even know who that is.)

When Ramona was a little girl, exactly seven years old, she was called into her classroom when the final bell rang. A female teacher folded her left hand open and closed, beckoning for the girl to come to her desk in the back of the room. Being a dutiful, obedient girl, Ramona approached without a word, focusing her blue eyed gaze on her teacher’s massively curly, chocolate brown locks.

“Is something bothering you, Ramona?” The teacher had asked with a curious gaze, folding her hands together into one.

Ramona had no answer. No words came to mind, and what little she had didn’t form an answer. All she could do was stare. For all of her short life, little Ramona tried to convince herself that this person in front of her was just an illusion. A mere trick to persuade her into believing she was worth something, then have the rug pulled out from under her, making her fall back into darkness, the storm that burdened and surged in her heart, where no one could save her.

How could she tell her about the darkness she endured for an entire summer? Where lights would turn off, she being alone with him, his hands striking her, fearing, even wishing, that every day would be her last. No, she couldn’t bear to tell Mrs. George how dirty and bad she was inside. If she did, what if Mrs. George wouldn’t like her anymore?

“...No,” She quivered, shaking her head left and right. “Nothing’s bothering me, Mrs. George.”

She looked down at the desk, noticing a flurry of red, folded paper hearts scattered on the desk. They were all very tiny, the size of maybe a piece of spherical bubble gum. This was a sight she hadn’t seen before. What would Mrs. George be doing with these? Fear and trepidation were replaced with an innate curiosity that Mrs. George could see plain as day.

“You’re wondering why I make these, don’t you?” Mrs. George asked.

“How come?”

Mrs. George smiled. “Whenever I’m sad, angry, or feel lost, I make these to make myself feel better. In fact…” She elaborated, showing Ramona a light pink paper heart. “There’s an old legend. If you make a thousand paper hearts--folded ones, not cut out ones--you’ll find your true love.”

True love? Like...a boy she could fall in love with? Maybe a husband? Such lofty thoughts were far beyond her reach. Ramona had always been told that she could never find someone like that in her life. In their words, _“What decent man would love a piece of trash like you?!”_ But folding paper hearts...that seemed like a nice idea.

“Can you show me how to make them?” Ramona asked aloud.

“Of course.”

It only took a couple minutes for Ramona to figure out how. She wasn’t at the top of her class for nothing. Escaping into books and studying took her away from the storm of ugliness that surged inside her, even if it couldn’t protect her from it. She folded one paper heart, and already, Ramona felt as though a piece of her was inside it. The dark piece of her that she didn’t show to anyone. For just a brief moment, Ramona was overcome with relief.

“Thank you, Mrs. George.”

“You’re welcome, dear. You know I’m here for you if you want to talk, and not just about school work. It can be about anything.”

There it was. The prodding question. “I’m fine,” She muttered, but even Ramona knew her words felt hollow. Still, she raced out of the classroom.

That night, Ramona found time to fold a paper heart, just like Mrs. George showed her. Her slender fingers gently folded the red construction paper into folds, and she mended them to make sure the pieces were either round or sharp. When she finished, she placed the heart into the jar. Ramona didn’t believe in wishes or legends, but she liked making paper hearts. It passed the time, and it was simple. Anyone could do it. Even a little kid like her could do it.

Dark water droplets suddenly marked the wood on her tiny desk. Her cheeks were drowning in warm tears that cascaded down to her chin. The pain was coming right out. All the thunderbolts striking and thundering were poured into the paper heart, even as she threw it into the jar. She had a place to put it now.

It proved to be a great outlet. But it was only an outlet. It didn’t solve her problems. Still, making those paper hearts and putting them in the jar helped her cope.

Being all alone at school, not being noticed by anyone or talking to anyone. Three paper hearts.

Mother giving hard slaps across the face, enough to make her nose bleed, all because she came home late. Seven paper hearts.

Enduring the filthiness, willing herself elsewhere, his large body suffocating her and swallowing her whole. The hurting and pain that came with it. Showering six times and still not being able to rid herself of the filth. Eighteen paper hearts.

The day came where she couldn’t keep it all in anymore.

“Mrs. George. I...I need to tell you something. Please...please don’t hate me or be mad at me.”

As Ramona told her teacher of the tale, not once did she say that it was her fault or that she deserved it. She just listened, calm and attentive, but wore appalled expressions when Ramona elaborated on the things that he had done to her. A big hug from Mrs. George. A huge waterfall of tears came forth.

Twenty five paper hearts.

Learning that he would be in prison for thirteen years for his crimes. She wished they locked him up forever. Forty paper hearts.

A nice farming family taking her away from the bad house, teaching her how to milk cows, shear sheep, brush their fur, collect eggs from chickens, take hay out of silos. Pure bliss. A hundred and eight paper hearts.

As a twelve-year-old Ramona gazed at the night sky, the distant million stars above, she told herself, “I don’t need people in my life. I’ll be a great farmer, with lots of animal friends. I won’t let anyone hurt me anymore...I won’t be hurt ever again.”

That was what she told herself, at least. Animals didn’t judge her. Animals didn’t make her dirty or filthy like he did. Animals didn’t tell her she was a bad person for what had happened to her. Animals were genuine. Animals weren’t capable of such thoughts. Animals only ate, played, slept, and relieved themselves. Simple as that, and Ramona cherished such simplicity. She could feed them, give them brushings and baths, and talk to them, and they would love her forever. If only the rest of the cruel world was so simple and full of bliss.

Two hundred and thirty six paper hearts.

Every day, she made a paper heart, even on a good day. But no day was ever truly good in her mind. Nightmares plagued her dreams every night. She kept herself isolated from everyone, in school, in her new family...she had no room in her heart for other humans. Should she open her heart, she thought, they would come right in and attack her, making her feel worse than she already felt she was. Even getting through every day was a struggle. The voices, the nightmares, the expectations of those around her...go to school, make yourself look nice, make friends, don’t get into fights with other kids, stop spending so much time on the farm...it was too much.

Five hundred and sixty four paper hearts.

The news that she would move to another town, one where she would absolutely have to talk to people, was not happy news in her mind. She would work on a farm with other people. That in itself, she thought, would be an absolute nightmare.

Eight hundred and forty eight paper hearts.

At sixteen, she and her family came to Mineral Town, taking their animals with them. It looked nice, and Ramona liked the animals. The cows, the sheep, the chickens...they were nice. Still, she wished she could be completely alone, with no one but the animals. If she could, she wanted to live her whole life with only animals, no people. No fear, no deluded hopes, no need to put up her shields and barriers, nothing but simple bliss.

One day, she had made her thousandth paper heart. That winter, the Starry Night Festival was a go in Mineral Town. A boy about a year younger than she, a young farmer like herself, had come to her house. His backwards cap hid his messy dark brown hair, and his overalls were dirty, caked with mud.

“What are you doing here, Sterling?” Ramona asked, folding her arms. “Man, you look like you jumped in a mud pit.”

“Hehehehe,” Sterling laughed, scratching his hat as his face turned red from rue. “One of the sheep gave me a hard time. Anyway…” He cleared his throat, his gloves stained with mud. “...I wanted to ask if maybe...you would like to come with me to the festival in Rose Square tonight. Is that okay?”

Ramona couldn’t prevent the ungraceful dropping of her jaw. Was he...asking her out? On a date? That couldn’t be true. She had long given up the thought of having someone ask her out or falling in love. Who would want to fall in love with someone who was defiled? Damaged goods? But it seemed fate didn’t share her views of herself. Plus, Sterling was a nice guy, both on the farm and in school. It had taken a while for Ramona to even consider being his friend, as she had thought that he was just another male pig, or maybe even...like him. But he had proven her wrong multiple times.

Perhaps...love had come onto her doorstep after all?

A chance like this would probably never come again.

Ramona smiled warmly. “I...I don’t know what to say. But...I...I’d love to go with you,” Then she frowned, pointing to his dirty attire. “Before that, change into something nice! You don’t want to show up like that, do you?”

Once again, Sterling laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go get changed. Meet me at Rose Square at about six. Okay?”

“Okay!” Ramona couldn’t believe it. She actually sounded cheerful when she said that. That was unlike her. But something fluttered in her gut. Oddly enough...it felt good.

Maybe coming to Mineral Town and meeting the people there wasn’t a mistake after all. On the night she made the thousandth paper heart, she and Sterling danced under the stars to a soft waltz. For a moment, she found herself walking among the stars, in complete bliss, nothing like she had experienced on the farm. Before, she used to just drag herself through every day, numbing herself to everything, hardening her heart just to survive. Now, the barriers had broken, and the world didn’t seem so cruel anymore. The pain wasn’t gone, as she would bear the scars forever. But maybe, just maybe...going through life and meeting people won’t be so painful anymore.

They danced away into the night, and all thanks to the thousand folded paper hearts.


End file.
